


Coming for You

by agentofvalue



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cartinelli - Freeform, F/F, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 01:36:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5111552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentofvalue/pseuds/agentofvalue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Peggy is injured, the SSR naturally calls her emergency contact. However, the SSR didn't know she hasn't spoken to her 'roommate' in almost six months. Still, Angie comes rushing to her side. </p><p>Based on <a href="http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/132019097971/person-a-and-person-b-have-had-a-serious-fall">this post</a> on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No beta so please excuse any mistakes.

Peggy heard the heels clattering on the tile floors and knew who was coming. There were a dozen hospital rooms along the hallway and she knew it could only be one person. One person coming to see her. She'd recognized those hurried steps anywhere. She'd spent a year listening to them coming and going. 

Despite her body’s protest, she tried to push herself up in her bed. The problem was that required the use of, well, her body. She winced and gasped. It was hard to make oneself presentable after being thrown off a building. She hoped she looked a little less helpless now she wasn't so prone. 

The door burst open and Angie came tumbling in. She was out of breath, her hair falling out of place, her coat was askew. She’d run from where ever she had been, probably the theater district. Peggy’s stomach flipped, and it had nothing to do with her injuries. 

It had been four months since their spectacular fight. Four months since Peggy had pushed her girlfriend—her best friend—out of her life. Four months since she had stormed from Stark’s penthouse to sleep in SSR offices for a few nights. Four months since she’d returned to find Angie’s things already gone. 

Angie cleared the remaining space and kissed Peggy. She took Peggy’s face in both hands pulled her in. It was deep and hungry and full of missing you. For the first time, Peggy didn't care if anyone walked in. She didn't care who saw or who knew. She had missed Angie terribly. 

Angie pulled closer, again requiring Peggy to move, and she cried out. It was more of a whimper, but it interrupted the kiss. 

"Christ, I’m sorry. I didn't mean to." Angie wiped her lips. "You look awful." 

Peggy tried to smile. "Thanks, Ange." 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." 

"I'm not at my best at the moment. It’s okay—I know." 

"What happened?" 

"I fell,” she said and with a frown from Angie added, “I fell almost a story.” She was as matter a fact as she could be. 

Angie didn't need to know she couldn’t stop reliving the sensation of being thrown backward by the suspect and waiting for the railing to catch her. The horror of hearing a crack and realizing it wasn't going to and then falling, falling, falling and darkness. 

She had been unconscious when they brought her in, so they had called her next of kin. She wouldn't have let them if she had been awake. She would’ve changed the paperwork if she had thought something would happen. 

“Oh Peggy,” Angie said and took Peggy’s hand. Peggy didn’t deserve it, but she held on. 

“Just broken ribs, a concussion. I’ll be fine.” 

“You’re lucky to be alive.” 

“I’ve had worse.” She couldn’t really remember anything besides actually getting shot. 

“Not by much.” 

A nurse entered they both jumped. Angie let go and took a full step away from the bed. They were still so careful. No one could know. Even if they weren’t together anymore, no one could know they had ever been. The kiss had been reckless. If people at the SSR found out, it would end her career. Angie was finally in a company and it would end her hopes of being a star before it really started. Peggy could blame the pain medication; Angie might not be able to make up such an excuse. 

“Who are you?” asked the nurse bluntly. 

She was a severe woman with tightly cropped grey hair and skin so pale it looked as if she never left the hospital. 

“Her—her roommate,” said Angie. 

“You can wait in the hall. Family only,” said the nurse. 

“I’m the closest thing she has to family on this side of the Atlantic.” Angie stomped her foot. “I won’t leave her.” 

“Angie, it’s fine. I’m okay. You didn’t have to come,” said Peggy. 

“Please, I won’t be in the way,” said Angie, ignoring Peggy. 

“Fine. But have the smarts to say you are her sister.” 

“Nobody’s gonna believe that,” said Angie, her American accent clear. 

“Do you want to leave?” 

“Fine, I’m her sister.” 

“Great. You have until the end of visiting hours.” 

Angie took the chair beside the bed, looking both elegant and unmovable. Peggy stared at her former lover for a long while. For the first time, she truly wondered what had happened between them. How had they gone from best friends to sharing a bed to strangers? And it had all happened so quickly. How had she let it? 

There had been a reason she had gone back to L&L Automat nearly every day. But it wasn’t until she had found some closure after Steve’s death had she been able to admit it. She hadn’t been able to look at anyone until that movement. And when she had looked up, Angie had been standing in front of her. 

Life had been perfect for a few blissful months. 

“More pain medication,” said the nurse and added a syringe to Peggy’s IV before leaving. 

The drugs spread and offered some real relief, but made Peggy’s eyes heavy. The room seemed to slow down. She tried not to give into the unconsciousness. 

“I appreciate you coming, but I’m okay. You didn’t have to stay,” she said. 

“Why do always do that?” Angie said. 

“What? It’s not your,” she tried to think of the word through the muddle, “responsibility. It never was.” 

“It has nothing to do with responsibility, English,” said Angie waspishly. 

“I’m about to pass out. You don’t have to stay…” she said though she wasn’t sure the last word make it across. 

Peggy was falling, falling, falling. She woke with a shout and searing pain as she violently crashed through the drug's heavy sedation. She struggled to catch her breath. She was confused and in pain and then she felt a pair of arms around her. 

While Peggy was still trying to orient herself, Angie had slipped into the bed. 

Angie spoke quietly. “You’re going to be okay,” she said. 

It was a mantra from all those nights she had needed to wake Peggy from other nightmares. She used to hold Peggy and say, “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.” She would repeat it until Peggy believed it. It was so selfish, but it was one thing that had helped make those months so good. She could fall back to sleep after a nightmare with Angie there next to her. She had Angie's smile during the day and her comfort during the night.

Almost at once, Peggy’s heart rate returned to normal. She rested against her friend, her former lover, and closed her eyes again. 

“Miss, can I ask what you are doing?” said a male voice. 

Peggy heard it and she stirred, pulling herself back to consciousness. 

“She had a nightmare,” said Angie. 

“The nurses will see to any concerns. I’ll ask you to get out of my patient’s bed.” 

“We used to live together. She’s had bad nightmares as long as I’ve known her. This is the fastest way to get her calm down.” 

“You’re a good friend.” 

Angie made a noncommittal noise. 

“I still need you to get out of the bed.” 

“Oh please, just let her rest.” 

“Miss, do I need to get security?” 

Angie sighed and untangled herself. She was so gentle, but every movement sent a ripple of pain across Peggy’s body. She whimpered. 

“I’m sorry, babe. Doctor’s orders,” Angie said in a tiny whisper. 

Peggy was fully awake by the time Angie’s feet were on the floor. Once she was back in her chair, the nosy doctor left. 

“Ass,” said Angie to no one in particular as she picked up a script from her bag. 

“Agreed,” Peggy said. 

Angie peered over the pages. “You’re awake.” 

“I’m awake.” 

“I hope I didn’t hurt you.” 

“I’ll be alright.” 

Angie shook her head. “You always are, Agent Carter. You always are.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“I think you know, but I’m not here to argue.” 

Peggy didn’t want to fight either so she kept quiet. Angie nodded as if to say, 'That’s what I thought.' 

“What happened to us?” asked Peggy. 

Angie sighed and went back to her script. “I don’t know, English. You wouldn’t tell me.” 

Peggy looked away. So, it was her fault. Of course, it was her fault. As much as she had tried to blame Angie for their breakup, she knew that wasn’t true. Angie didn’t leave; Peggy had. Angie wasn't unreasonable; Peggy was. 

“I’m sorry for everything,” Peggy said. 

“It’s not all your fault, Peg. But I couldn’t sit there and take it anymore. I couldn’t watch you do it to yourself.” 

“Do what?” 

She put down the script. “Whatever this is. Puttin’ yourself in danger. Do whatever makes you wake up in the middle of the night screaming. You have never once told me what your nightmares are about. You were Miss Sunshine in the morning. It kills me. I knew what was really going on no matter how brave a face you put on. ” 

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“That is not what I mean and you know it.” 

“I was falling again. That’s what I dreaming about.” 

“Well, that’s progress, but it doesn’t explain the rest. It doesn’t explain why you never let me in. So many secrets.” 

“We had to have secrets. Two women aren’t supposed to live the way we did.” 

Angie glanced at the door to make sure no one was coming. “You gave me your body, but you never talked to me about anything important. I had to lie to federal agents before you would admit you didn’t work for the phone company.” 

“I can’t say. It’s against every rule.” 

Angie grabbed Peggy’s hand again. “The rules don’t apply to us.” 

The doctor came back into the room and both women let go as if they had been shocked. He didn’t seem to notice anything. He did a quick check and left after a few minutes. Peggy was steeling herself every second he was there. 

Angie had been right. Peggy had kept too much to herself. Angie was here and Angie was listening. They weren’t fighting or yelling; Peggy didn’t have the energy to yell. She was also realizing this could be the last time she saw Angie. She had to clear the air. She had to explain herself. 

The examine was painful as the doctor kept asking Peggy to move, but she wished for it to last forever. She refused another dose of meds because she needed to be alert. 

An awkward silence filled the room when the doctor left. Angie had gone back reading the script. 

Peggy chewed on her tongue. 

“ _Say it. Say it. Say it,_ ” she told herself. 

“He died,” she blurted out. 

Angie acted as if she didn’t care, but Peggy had seen her muscles go rigid. She was straining, listening intently. 

“Who died?” Angie asked. 

“During the war. I was on the radio with him. The static is in all my dreams. I hear it every night.” 

Angie was still listening. 

“The plane went down and he saved so many lives, but I lost him and it was my fault. I let him go—I helped him even.” 

“Who, Peggy?” 

“Captain Steve Rogers.” 

Angie slowly lowered the pages. “Are you referring to Captain America?” 

“He and I—we were—together. In the middle of all the carnage. I was assigned to his unit.” 

“You and Captain America?” 

“I loved him and I listened to him die. It was three years ago. I know I should be over it, but I still hear the static. I’ve done horrible things to protect others, to fight for the just cause. I put myself in harm’s way so they don’t have to. I couldn’t save him. Then, Colleen was killed. Shot in her bed because she let me stay with her. I’ve been scared. I know that now. I was scared something would happen to you, so I happened first.” 

“Oh Peggy,” Angie said quietly. “You’ve never mentioned either of these people before. How could I know?” 

“You couldn’t, but it’s why I didn’t want to move into the Griffith Hotel at first. It’s why I’ve kept you at arm’s length. I love you. I just wanted to keep you safe. You don’t have to stay—I just wanted to you understand. The past doesn’t excuse the way I have acted, but it might explain it.” 

“The car accident,” said Angie suddenly. 

Peggy knew what she meant. Angie had been on her way to meet Peggy for a dinner break when the taxi Angie had been in had collided with another car. No one involved had had anything more than a minor injury, but Peggy had been called to the hospital. She raced to the emergency room, just as Angie had been called today. 

Peggy had never made the connection before. But thinking back, it was had been a reminder that life was fragile, especially life around Peggy Carter. 

“Maybe,” she admitted and tears blurred her vision. 

“That had nothing to do with you,” Angie said. “It was an accident, and I was okay. You don’t have to worry—I’m not going anywhere.”

“I pushed you out. I’ve pushed everyone out. But I’m sorry.” 

She started to cry in earnest, silently and despite the pain in her chest. She blamed the drugs. In an instant, Angie was settling next to her again. Peggy had never let herself be held like this except in the dead of night. 

“My love, my love,” she said in the gentlest tone. She kissed Peggy’s forehead. 

Peggy looked up and kissed Angie on the lips. Short, sweet, and through her tears. 

“I love you,” Peggy said again. “I just wanted you to be safe. It’s safer away from me.” 

“Never, my love. I've seen you fight. I shouldn’ta given up. I shouldn’ta have left.” 

“You’re here now.” 

“You rest. Get better so I can take you home.” 

“Home?” Peggy asking, wishing she didn’t sound like such a lost child. 

“Our home. To Howard’s. I’ve been sleeping on couches since I moved out because I couldn’t face finding a new place. It would’ve meant admitting we were done. I’ve been miserable without you, English.” 

“Me too.” 

“Well, I should think so.” 

Peggy laughed and then winced. Angie kissed her tears away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was a full year ago that I wrote this first part and never intended to continue it, but these two won't leave me along. Enjoy!

It was slow going. Every movement was painful and took sheer effort. All Angie could do was watch. It was painful, but it was nowhere near as painful as it was for Peggy with her four broken ribs. They kept her in the hospital for a two days to monitor the concussion. Angie was beginning to think she should’ve stayed. Though, it had been a miracle that Peggy had stayed put that long.

"Take your time," she said as Peggy tried to get out of the taxi.

Peggy moved and winced. Angie felt in her gut. She’d do anything to take away the pain. She’d done what she could by getting to the hospital for visiting hours and arguing with the grumpy nurse. 

"I’m alright," Peggy said.

" _You big liar_ ," thought Angie.

At least there was an elevator. Peggy was struggling to walk in a straight line, and Angie didn’t want to see her try to tackle a set of stairs.

They made it inside and into the elevator. Peggy tried to lift her arm to press the button for the top floor. She let out something like a squeak and immediately put her arm back down.

"I’ve got it," said Angie.

Peggy moved aside so Angie could get to the controls.

"I’ve been shot, Ange," Peggy said, mournfully. "Twice. In the back. This is so much worst."

So, that was what those marks were. Angie had always suspected the scars on Peggy’s shoulder were from bullets, but she had never got an answer when she asked.

"Really? You’d rather be shot again?"

"I don’t know if rather is the right word," Peggy answered with a smile. The first Angie had seen that day.

They went up to the top floor and into their apartment. Though, it was hard to call it an apartment. It was like a building on top of an apartment building. Their benefactor had needed a whole staff to keep the place running. Peggy and Angie had only kept on a cleaning woman named Tess to clean the rooms they didn’t use.

They had eaten in the formal dining room exactly once on their first night. Without having to discuss it, they used the small servant’s table in the kitchen to next night. They had never been in the formal living room after Mr. Fancy’s tour, preferring a small study.

It was strange to be back even though Angie had been coming and going for the past couple of days. She still had keys, so she collected her things and moved back to the penthouse. The majority of her things were still here. If she had needed something, she had sneaked back when she knew Peggy would be out. Careful not to leave a trace. Though with Peggy’s eagle eyes, she probably noticed anyway.

It looked the same, smelled the same. Nothing had really changed. It felt like six years, maybe even sixty, instead of several months since they had been here together. Angie took off her coat and hung it on the hook where it usually went.

Peggy looked like she was preparing for battle as she unbuttoned hers.

"Come here," said Angie and without waiting for an answer, helped her off with it, so Peggy didn’t need to lift her arms.

She hung it on the hook next to her own where it usually went.

"What now?" Angie asked, determined not to let there be an awkward pause. "You hungry? I can fix something. Do you just want to rest? Read maybe? Do you have work?" She laid out all the options.

"I…" Peggy considered and then sighed. "I want a bath because I smell like the hospital."

"Spa style?" Angie said brightly.

Peggy’s gaze flicked to Angie and the corners of her mouth turned up in another little smile. The coy expression made it clear what she was thinking of. 

One night, Angie had drawn herself a bath in the grand master bathroom. She had filled the tub with scented bubbles, dimmed the lights, lit candles. She had sunk into the hot water with a magazine. Halfway through, she heard Peggy return home early.

She had appeared and moved into the room without needing an invitation. She perched on the edge of the tub, dipping her fingers in the water just breaking the surface. Most of the bubbles had disappeared. Angie had been in full view.

"What’s all this?" Peggy had asked.

"Angie’s Spa and Resort," Angie had answered, which looking back was a very articulate response given the circumstances.

"Room for one more?" Peggy said, already tugging at the fastenings of her dress.

It slipped down as it loosened and Peggy stood to let it fall to the floor. Next, her undergarments were added to the pile. Slowly, Peggy had eased herself into the tub opposite Angie. She had taken hold of Angie’s ankle, ran her hand up Angie’s shin, along her thigh, and then...well.

They had been so happy that night. Unstoppable. In love.

Angie cleared her throat and brought herself back to the present. "I mean with bubbles. I wasn’t suggesting anything else."

"That would be lovely," said Peggy. "But yes, perhaps just the bubbles."

Angie blushed, but only because she had outed herself for thinking about that night too. "I’ll get it ready."

Angie went straight to the bathroom and ran the water. She sat on the edge of the tub with her hand under the spray to test the temperature. When she judged it was right, she plugged the tub and added a cap full of the bath soap so the water foamed. She set out a clear, fluffy towel within easy reach, and laid out another towel on the floor in front of the tub in case there were any splashes. The last thing Peggy needed was to slip getting in or out. She was lighting a sweet smelling candle when Peggy entered, wrapped tightly in her black and red bathrobe.

She leaned against Angie, resting her forearm on Angie’s shoulder. Angie wanted to close her eyes and hold on to the moment forever. It was casual, familiar, easy, but then again they had never struggled with this kind of intimacy.

"Thanks. This looks wonderful," Peggy said.

"Temperature alright?" Angie asked.

"I’m sure it’s fine. I don’t think I can bend down to check."

"Right. Do you need anything else?"

"No, this is perfect."

There was something dismissive in her tone, a little ‘that will be all’. Angie faltered, but hope it didn’t show on her face.

"Okay, English, enjoy," she said and left quickly.

She closed the door behind her. Closed it all the way so it latched. They never did that. They had run of the large place and it was just the two of them. There was hardly a reason to close a door all the way.

She had to do something. She couldn’t stand here outside the door and think about how different everything was. It had been four months of course things had changed. She could only hope they would go back to normal, or they would find a new normal.

She’d start with making something to eat. She headed for the kitchen and tried to march passed the long hall of bedrooms, including the one they had shared. It had originally been Peggy’s.

Neither of them had felt comfortable using the master bedroom to sleep. The other rooms were almost as large and just as nice. Peggy had chosen the one with heavy furniture and the deep green bedspread. Angie picked the one diagonally across the hall with the wrought iron bed and the maroon bedspread. Technically, that was still her room; it was where all her clothes were, but it was only for appearances.

She had hardly slept in that bed.

Not after the first time she had needed to wake Peggy from a nightmare.

They had been living together in the penthouse for a few months. They weren’t together together, but there had been a few moments of weakness, a few lingering touches that Angie savored too much. She knew what a bad idea it was to fall for someone who wasn’t like her. It would break her heart. Again. But Peggy seemed to reciprocate, and it was confusing. They were both holding back.

Angie had been only just getting home from a shift at the diner. She was in her pajamas but hadn’t made it into her bed yet and she was certainly not asleep yet. She heard Peggy call out. She had been in the hallway right in front of Peggy’s door which wasn’t latched.

It was a muffled noise, but enough to make her stop. Because she had shared a wall with Peggy at the Griffith, Angie was little used to strange knockings at strange hours, but that had been the first time she heard Peggy cry out. Peggy must talk in her sleep. Angie tried to convince herself that was all it was. But she had heard the edge of fear and that had made her stop.

"No! Not again." Something unclear. "Stop."

Angie had pushed open the door a crack and whispered Peggy’s name. With her head in the room, she could see Peggy’s outline thrashing around under the sheets.

"Help," said Peggy again. "Not again."

"Hey, English, wake up," she had said a little louder.

Angie had crept further into the room. Peggy was on the far side of the massive the bed, so to reach her Angie had needed to climb up. She shook Peggy’s shoulder.

Peggy woke with a scream that sent a shiver down Angie’s spin. She had never heard such a sound from someone she saw as so strong. A small amount of light spilled in from the hall and Angie saw it reflected on Peggy’s wet cheeks. She had been crying. She was panting wildly and still flailing a little like she didn’t know where she was.

"Peg, it’s me. It’s Angie. It was just a bad dream. You’re going to be okay."

Peggy finally focused on Angie, seeing her as if for the first time. She sat up, still breathing heavily, and wiped her face hurriedly with shaking hands.

"Dear Lord, I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t wake you," Peggy had said in a choked voice. Her words didn’t match how clearly shaken she still was.

"No, I just got home. Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, of course."

" _You big liar_ ," Angie had thought.

God, Angie wanted to make everything okay. She wanted to shower this woman in kisses until the tears were gone, wanted to love her until all the pain was gone. This wasn’t the first time she had thought these things. That night Peggy had turned up at the diner inches away from tears. They had finished that bottle of schnapps and Peggy acted like everything was okay.

"You sure? What were you dreaming about?" she asked out loud, trying to get her heart rate to return to normal. Peggy wasn’t hers to have.

"Oh nothing," Peggy said. 

"Does this happen a lot?"

Peggy looked at Angie sheepishly. The answer was yes, but she wouldn’t admit it. She sighed in a shaky way like a little kid who had been crying too hard. She tried to smile to say, ‘Oh well, that’s the way it is.’ She put on such a brave face and smiled through it all.

Looking back, Angie didn’t have the details that night—she still didn’t really—but she saw the sadness through the crack. She had seen the heartbreak, and she wanted to be a comfort. It had been too much. They had been so close. Angie’s knee had been rested across Peggy’s thigh. She could still feel Peggy trembling. They were alone in the immense apartment.

She had leaned over, closing the small space that still separated them, and kissed Peggy. It was like taking a long drag on a cigarette, satisfying and something she knew she wasn’t supposed to be doing. She brought her hand up to Peggy’s face and her fingers trace along her jawline. And then she let go.

She had been reckless and selfish and she had taken advantage. Angie nosedived down into all the questions she always asked herself. What had she done? Why did she have to be this way? Why did she have to fall helplessly in love with exactly the wrong person? She had ruined everything. Again.

She had tried scrambled away from Peggy, to get her distance. She promised to leave, to never come back if Peggy would never, ever tell anyone.

Peggy had grabbed her wrist and didn’t let go. Angie tried to shake her off, but Peggy held fast.

"Please," Peggy had said, her voice low and desperate. "Don’t leave me. I truly couldn’t bear it."

Angie gave up her fight. It wasn’t hard to convince her; she would do anything for Peggy, her dear friend, her unrequited love—still would.

She hadn’t been able to look up, to meet Peggy’s eyes. Peggy lifted Angie’s chin and traced her thumb along Angie’s bottom lip. Angie held her breath. She had expected Peggy to run. To make Angie leave. To give her a look of horror. Peggy did none of that.

"You too?" Peggy had said. Her voice was breathy and all the sadness was gone.

Peggy dropped her hand when Angie spoke. "For awhile now," she said as she then reached up to twirl one of Peggy’s curls.

"I’m sorry I took so long to notice." Peggy had leaned in for another kiss.

They had fallen down against the pillows, lost in each other.

Angie had woke up in the morning light to find Peggy still fast asleep. She had been facing Angie, reaching out to her across the bed.

The next night, Angie had brought home a bottle of whiskey to get Peggy to talk about the nightmare, what they had done, what it meant. Instead, they had fallen into bed again.

Peggy had worked late the next night and Angie had gone back to her room after standing in the hallway for long minutes trying to decide which room. She had woke in the earliest hours of the morning to find Peggy in her bed. The night after that Peggy had appeared in Angie’s doorway just as Angie was about to pull down the covers.

"Are you coming?" Peggy had said simply.

Angie had rushed after her.

They had shared the room with heavy furniture and the deep green bedspread since then.

A few angry nights here and there, right at the end, right before the big knock-down, drag-out fight.

Angie suddenly wondered where she should sleep tonight.

Again, she had to focus on the present. None of these memories had happened that long ago. She was being silly.

She continued her march to the kitchen. There wasn’t much to be found, but the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies were always at hand. It wouldn’t be much of a dinner, but it would be something to do.

She was elbow deep in the dough when she heard her name called. She stopped and wiped off her hands.

"Yeah?" she yelled back. It seemed to echo in the apartment.

"I need...I need some help. I’m in the bedroom."

Angie dropped everything and practically ran out of the kitchen. The door was closed again.

"You okay, English?" Angie called as she knocked. 

"Yes." There was a pause. "I need help with the bandage."

"Oh gosh, of course. I’m coming in."

"Wait!"

Angie stopped.

"I—I know how bad it looks, alright? You don’t have to say it."

Angie pushed open the door. Peggy was standing in the middle of the room only half dressed. She had managed to get pajama bottoms on, but her top was just her brassiere. Her hair was soaking wet and dripping onto the carpet. None of this was what Angie noticed first.

Peggy’s torso was covered in spectacular bruises. She was black and blue from her back wrapping around her middle. Purple, deep blue colors overlapped in places. It looked like, well, like she had fallen off a building. It was, in a way, worst than blood. This would take weeks maybe even months to heal.

Angie moved forward and touched Peggy’s skin lightly. She had to bite her tongue to keep from saying anything.

"I know," said Peggy, shying away a little. 

"I wasn’t going to say it," Angie said.

"You want to, but I already know."

"Of course I want to, but only ‘cause I wish there was something I could do to make you feel better."

"I’m really sorry to have to ask. I don’t mean to be a bother."

"I’m here to help. I want to help," Angie said gently. "Let me."

She kissed Peggy softly on the lips. Peggy breathed out slowly when Angie pulled away.

"What do you need me to do?" Angie said.

Peggy waved an ace bandage. "It’s supposed to keep my ribs immobilized. I couldn’t hold the bloody thing and wrap it at the same time even if I could lift my arms."

"Alright, let me."

Peggy relaxed a little. "Thank you."

Angie took the bandage. Their fingers brush against each other. She tried to ignore the moment. "I’ve actually done this before."

"Really?"

"Hold this." She pressed a corner against Peggy’s side. Peggy held it in place with two fingers. "Yeah, all my brothers and cousins played sports." She walked around Peggy wrapping the bandage as she went. "They are also idiots. We had a few broken ribs in my house. Not four at once, though."

"It isn’t a lot of fun."

Angie smiled. "Is this your worst injury?" she asked as she worked.

"Yes, I think so."

"Besides getting shot?"

"Well, yes. Besides that."

"It’s like pulling teeth," Angie said, shaking her head.

"You don’t want to hear about that. I was hoping you wouldn’t have to see me like this. I don’t want you to have those pictures in your head."

"Hey," said Angie and Peggy looked over her shoulder at her. "No more secrets. I’m here. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but don’t do it because of some need to protect me. I want to be here. Good and bad, okay?"

Peggy sighed like she was letting go of something and then winced after such a deep breath. "I was organizing a ride after a mission. The men knew I wasn’t who I said I was and when things turned upside down, they shot me. I was hit in the shoulder, but it was a small caliber." She angled herself a little so Angie could see the scars.

"Yes, my love, I know what you are talking about." She straightened and kissed Peggy’s bare shoulder. "What happened next?"

"I made it to the safe house and the next day we had to hike until nightfall to get to an extraction point."

"English, you are a terrible storyteller."

"What else do you want me to say? I bled all over the place and it was only Steve there to patch me up. Then, we hiked for ages and thought I was going to collapse after every step. He kept fussing and telling me I was as pale as a sheet which, while descriptive, was useless information. We were extracted by people I can’t name from a place I’m not allowed to talk about."

"You mean Steve Rogers?" Angie asked.

There was a long silence. "Yes."

"You don’t have to talk about him, but I want to know whatever you want to share. You don't have to protect me."

"I shouldn't. It's all classified."

"Have I told anyone you do not work for the telephone company?"

"I supposed not." She sighed. "I don't know where to start."

"What is the one thing I should I know?"

"He was special before they gave him the serum," said Peggy and stopped.

"Go on."

"He was the bravest man I've ever known. Just to volunteer. He had been told no a hundred times and kept going because it was the right thing to do. He saved so many lives. The serum was only a tool. It only made him physically capable. His heart—" A little hiccup of a sob escaped.

"You loved him." It wasn't a question. Angie fiddled with the pin so she didn't have to look at Peggy.

Peggy caught her hand and led her around, so she had to look. She searched Angie's face before speaking again. It was the seeking gaze Peggy had given her their first night together.

"Yes, I loved him. I miss him."

Angie's heart broke a little. She wanted so badly to make everything better for Peggy. In this moment, she would have brought Captain America back if she could. Even if it meant losing Peggy forever just to make one thing stop hurting. It wasn't in her power.

"But I love you too," Peggy said.

She took Peggy's face in her hands and bend her head a little so she could kiss Peggy on the forehead. She had to stand on her tiptoes too. "I love you." They were silent for a moment. "How does the bandage feel?" asked Angie.

"Better."

"Really?"

"No. Everything hurts," moaned Peggy.

"C'mon, you're almost done."

Angie took the matching pajama top off the bed and helped Peggy get it on. She buttoned up the front. She felt Peggy squirming but ignored it.

"Let me do your hair before you ruin the fancy rug," Angie said. 

"Would you braid it please?"

Angie nodded. "It’s definitely long enough now."

They had gone camping with two of Angie’s brothers over a long weekend. Peggy had let Angie French braid her hair into two stubby pigtails after a swim in the lake. Peggy’s hair had been too short for much more. It didn’t look like Peggy had had a haircut since then. It had grown past her shoulders.

She led Peggy to a reading chair in the corner of the room and sat her down. After retrieving a discarded towel, she moved behind the chair and gingerly dried off Peggy’s hair. It had already soaked through the back of her pajamas.

She ran a brush through Peggy’s hair and separated it into sections.

"That feels nice," Peggy said.

Angie let a section fall, so she had an excuse to start over. If it was making Peggy feel better, she would make it last as long as possible.

"Nothing better than someone playing with your hair," said Angie. 

"Especially when you do it."

"I have a question for you," Angie said just to fill the space.

"Shoot."

"It’s stupid."

"So are most of your questions."

Angie laughed sarcastically.

"I’m teasing," Peggy said. "What’s your question?"

"How did you do your hair on missions?

"I pull it back and mostly don’t bother. I do always make sure I have pins tucked away—they’re invaluable in other ways too."

"Wait, you really pick locks and things with hair pins?"

"A few times, yes."

"Damn, you’ll have to show me how to do that sometime." Angie tied the end of the braid. "There. How does that look?"

Peggy struggled to her feet and stood in front of the mirror. Angie had done one braid this time and all her hair swept back. The definition of Peggy’s bone structure was unreal. Angie pushed that thought down. This wasn’t the time.

Peggy tucked a stray lock in place.

"Thank you," Peggy said. "One less thing to worry about for a while."

She seemed so small standing in the middle of the room in her pajamas and in obvious pain. Angie just wanted to scoop her up and kiss her until everything was better.

"Come on," Angie said in a hoarse voice. "Into bed. You should take another of those pills that make you silly."

"Pain medication, Ange," Peggy said. "It’s called pain medication, and it was prescribed to me by a physician."

Angie held up the covers and let Peggy lean against her as she climbed up. "Still makes you silly," she said to try to distract Peggy, whose face was twisted with pain. 

Angie got the bottle of painkillers. Peggy poured one out into her hand and swallowed it without the water. The fact that she took it without argument was telling to Angie.

Peggy settled against her pillows stiffly and tried to smile in thanks. It was still a grimace.

Angie kicked off her shoes and gingerly got up on the bed too. She moved carefully so the mattress shifted as little as possible, laying on top of covers and staring at the ceiling. She folded her hands across her stomach.

"Angie?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks for looking after me."

Leaning over, Angie planted a kiss on Peggy’s cheek. She laid back down but closer, sharing the same pillow. Peggy held her hand out and Angie took it. Their fingers laced together. Peggy closed her eyes.


End file.
